


A Heart to Love

by irishlullaby13



Series: Never Doubt I Love [1]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Never Doubt I Love Series, SleepyHollowIsOverParty, ichabbie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 10:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10897623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: Who could refrainThat had a heart to love, and in that heartCourage to make love known-Macbeth





	A Heart to Love

_Abbie felt transfixed as she reached for the box. A serene feeling slowly started to overtake her senses as it seemed to welcome her like an old friend. A friend that wouldn't leave her, never abandon her, wouldn't disappear and only reappear when it was convenient... It even seemed to be whispering to her that it would keep her safe. It would protect her. It loved her. It thought she was special. It would never let her down._

_It was offering her everything she had ever hoped for._

_Then it felt like she was being embraced from behind. “_ Abbie, don't _...”_

_The soft voice pulled her away from the beckoning call of the box. The box became angry. It tried to pull her in anyway. But something... something else... something that was somehow stronger than the box was clinging to her, begging her_ no, don't go _. The box didn't want this other thing. This other thing would not and could not take her away from it, the box seemed to shriek._

__Stay with me. Please _._

_Abbie smiled and felt herself falling back into the embrace. The feeling of safety that felt as though it were a fact and not an empty promise like the box had been offering. The feeling of security and warmth spread from her body and coursed down her arms, entwined around her fingers, burrowed into the very essence of her soul._

__Do not go unless I can follow _._

_A burden shared is a burden halved. Two is better than one. But what happens when a malicious magical box seeks only one on the verge of feeling hopeless but the second source is refusing to let go, clinging faithfully to the idea that Abbie would see the truth?_

_Suddenly she _could_ see it all so clearly. She could hear her mama, long ago during one of her more lucid moments, reciting the quote, “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours. If they don't... then they never were.” She could remember three times hearing the automated voice saying she had a caller from the ICE detention centre—the first two times she heard only a shaky breath before the line went silent, the third time Crane finally found his voice. Her heart had beat so wildly at the sound of the smooth, but obviously abashed, dulcet tone._

_That was when it occurred to her that the box sought only to steal her hopes. To lure her in and drain them away. To take away that moment when her _friend_ finally returned. There was something... something that not only that wanted to amplify her hope and make it shine from within her like a beacon in the darkest of nights. It longed to make her untouchable by the evils that resided within the box. Her hope entwined with that of the other thing, pulling her further and further away from the spiralling tendrils of the box._

__There is another way _._

_Was it the most desirable option? Probably not. But it was a way to retain what the box longed for the most but was being denied._

_No, no no, the box screamed. She was supposed to be mine! Mine! What are you doing?_

_Abbie felt her lips curl into a smile as she bid everything that was trapped within the box to break free. The monsters had always been in the world. They were things of legend that spanned the history of mankind. Maybe each would find their demise at the hands of the forces of good. Or maybe they would just shirk away to the shadows from whence they came, never to be seen again or to continue being legends and myths. Either way, humanity had survived with them thus far, what danger was there in allowing them to run free just a little bit longer?_

  
#  


He was fidgeting in the seat next to her as the car hauled them back home. She could see it just out of her peripheral as she tried to stayed focused on her own hands, folded in her lap. Abbie tried not to look when his hand slid across the back seat toward her, his fingers flexed, then his hand pulled away again. She could hear him suck in his breath, like he always did when he was about to say _Lieutenant_ followed by some heart felt speech about fate and entwined destinies.

Abbie didn't feel like giving him the satisfaction. She didn't look his way, she didn't acknowledge him in any way. She wasn't even entirely sure as to _why_. Or rather, she wasn't about to admit why. She just hoped she could get into the house and to her room before he garnered enough courage to say it.

After all this time, despite the fact she wanted him to say it... she still wasn't ready to hear it.

Thankfully, Jenny and her Dad were at the house when her and Crane arrive home. It provided plenty of a distraction from the flittering looks Crane would cast in her direction when Jenny said, “I don't know what I would have done if I lost you too...”

Jenny's proclamation did nothing to soothe the guilt Abbie was already feeling over what had almost happened.

But, shortly after midnight, Jenny and Ezra took their leave. As soon as she heard Crane take in a soft breath and his eyes softened, Abbie pushed herself to her feet and made her way to the stairs as quickly as she could, feigning a yawn and being exhausted.

She didn't want to deal with his kind words and delicate vows. Not when, after the box had fallen to the ground and sucked in both Pandora and the Hidden One, she realized it had been Crane that had wrapped himself around her, pulling her from the brink of sacrificing herself.

“Lieutenant...”

Abbie strode onward as though she hadn't heard him, hurried up the steps as quickly as her short stature permitted.

“ _Abbie_.”

She froze at the top step. His voice had been sharp, angry even. Abbie couldn't recollect a time when he had used that tone with _her_. She didn't turn toward him, just waited for him to say what he needed to say. If all else failed, she would be able to make it to her room before he could ask for some kind of response.

“How dare you.”

A chill coursed down Abbie's spine at the raw pain in his voice. That hadn't been what she was expecting. She had been expecting soft and kind. This was anger... no... frustration. This was hurt. The kind of hurt that stemmed from longing for something and finding agonizingly just beyond your fingertips but still wanting to reach for it anyway. Even though you knew you would probably only get hurt if you kept reaching.

“How dare you have no thought for those which you would be leaving behind,” Crane amended. “Those who had tried hard to show you time and again how much they care for you. And when we _try_ to give you comfort you... run away.”

How dare _she_? Abbie slowly turned to stare down the stairwell at Crane. “How dare... _I_?” She took each step back toward him slowly. “How dare _I_? _How dare I_ run away?” Anger was always a good way to deflect. Crane shirked away from her anger. He never questioned it, especially when it was aimed at him. He would deflate. And then he would either silently retreat or try to apologize for pressing the issue.

She didn't like touching that part of his personality but he had come at her first so she was on the defensive. All bets were off.

When she was only two steps away, she was able to look him straight in the eyes. She could see the fear and his sadness in his eyes. There was something else, too, but this little stunt was his attempt at deflecting from it. Deflecting. That was something he was good at too. Whether it was because he was uncertain she would reciprocate that something else or him just being a chicken shit, Abbie wasn't sure. But she was about to throw all her cards on the table and dare him to make sense of the mess.

Yes, he had come back. But she still didn't know where things stood with him.

Abbie poked him in the chest. “How about, how dare _you_ , Crane?” _poke_ “How dare _you_.” _poke_ “How dare _you_ run away.” She took the last two steps down, he stumbled back as she continued advancing. “How dare _you_ not call or text or anything _for nine months_.” She continued jabbing him in the chest with her finger as he backed away and she followed him. “How dare you only come back when you needed something.” She squeezed her eyes shut and balled up her fist then hit him in the chest. “How. Dare. _You_. Ichabod Crane. How dare you leave me. How dare _you_ leave _me_. How dare you make me not feel good enough. How dare _you_ spout your empty promises of staying with me then _leave_. Don't you _dare_ lecture me on running away.”

He stumbled over a chair then lowered into it to keep from tumbling over.

It was only when she realized she was grasping his shirt in her fists that Abbie realized this hadn't exactly gone as she had planned. “You left me…” she sobbed. “Everyone I have ever loved has left me. The box was telling me. It was luring me in with the hope that it wanted me, it wouldn't leave, it would protect me... it would keep _me_ safe. And you have the audacity to ask, how dare _I_ when every last one of you have managed to leave _me_ time and again?”

For the span of a second she felt her soul leave her body when Crane pulled her onto his lap and gathered her into his arms protectively. She felt Crane gently cradle her head in one of his hands and Abbie realized she had her face buried against curve of his neck. Her fingers were still gripping the material of his shirt tightly. She was enveloped in his embrace, his cheek resting on top of her head.

She wasn't going to cry. She refused to cry. Ever.

“Forgive me, Abbie,” Crane said softly. He placed a kiss atop her head and rested his cheek there again. “I never intended to make you feel unwanted. It does not excuse my absence, but, I feared _you_ would not wish to _have me_ at your side once we believed the Apocalypse to have been diverted.”

“You thought I needed a reason for me to want you around?” Abbie asked quietly, after a long moment of silence that had only been punctuated by their soft breaths. His arms slid around her, holding her with so much tenderness she thought she _would_ cry.

“I had nothing to offer you. I have yet to have anything to offer you,” Crane replied, his fingers flexing nervously at the small of her back. “I was and am still wholly unworthy of your friendship... your partnership...”

Friendship.

Right.

Abbie closed her eyes and sighed as she stood and took a step back, making herself let go of him. “You do have something to offer, Crane...” she said after a moment, placing her hand on his cheek, stroking her thumb over the surprisingly soft texture of his beard. He looked confused. “You were right... you have tried really hard to take care of me. You have a warm and giving heart. And...” she sighed and moved her hand to his chest to lightly pat it. “And I think that is one of the best things you can offer to any woman. Maybe in a few weeks we can start looking for you a—”

Before it could even register, Abbie found herself being gathered into Crane's arms again, as he stood, and his mouth was on hers. She grasped fistfuls of his shirt and raised onto her toes to try and better meet him—or maybe to pull him down to her level, she wasn't entirely sure which it was. Maybe it was both.

She suddenly very much liked the way this was heading. Although, part of her was still somewhat perplexed as to how they went from her trying to run away from this to _this_ happening. After a moment, Crane cradled her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers. His breath was warm against her lips. Abbie kept her eyes closed just drinking in the feeling, doing her best to wrap her fingers around his wrists.

It was unmistakably non-platonic. Her partner. Her dearest friend.

Was in love with her.

“Have I made it unmistakably clear that it is you—and only you—I wish to have at my side?”

Abbie nodded lightly. “Crystal clear.”

“Then hear me, Grace Abigail Mills... and understand that a world without you in it, is not one I wish to endure,” Crane murmured, his voice a low seductive rumble. He opened his mouth to say more but then paused, as though terrified he would say something wrong. He finally settled upon, “My Abbie...”

Again, Abbie nodded and stepped back, keeping hold of his wrists. She walked backwards, leading him to the stairs. He softly said her name as she slipped her hands into his and started up the steps. She paused and looked at him questioningly.

“I did not... It was not my intention to... When I shared my affections for you... It was not because I expected...” The apples of his cheeks tinged pink.

“I know,” Abbie said, putting a finger over his lips. She let go of his hand and silently finished going up the stairs, leaving him where he had stopped. She wasn't going to beg. She wasn't even going to ask. She was leaving it up to him as to whether he would follow.

Either way, everything was out in the open now and there was no taking it back.

Abbie moved toward her bedroom door and heard the gentle tap of his boots against the stairs as he followed. She was seated at the end of her bed, removing her socks and shoes when he tentatively peered into the room. His eyes were wide and nervous with not knowing what to do or say. She looked him over slowly.

“I don't want dirt in my bed so at least take off your boots and your coat might get a little uncomfortable so ditch it too,” she said simply. Once her shoes and socks were off she went to the head of her bed and pulled down the duvet and the sheet. She reached under the back of her shirt and unlatched her bra and removed it in that special way women had of doing that sort of thing, leaving Crane with a look that seemed to accuse her of witchcraft.

She turned away to pull her shirt over her head then pulled the sheer camisole from underneath her pillow to tug it on. Abbie closed her eyes and couldn't hold back a smile when she heard his boots hit the floor in rapid succession followed by the swish of his coat doing the same. Next Abbie shimmied out of her trousers. She didn't feel the least bit ashamed of the simple black cotton that covered her backside, as she slipped into the bed and pulled the blankets up to huddle into their warmth.

She clicked off her light and completely settled in. And waited.

After a few minutes, she felt her bed shift as Crane cautiously crawled in on the other side. Initially he was far away on the other side of the bed. A few minutes passed and she felt him shift close enough she could feel his warmth. She could feel his trepidation radiating between them, feel him trying to decide if what he wanted to do next was what she wanted or if he was perhaps being too bold at this new part of their relationship.

Abbie knew what she wanted. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted. She wanted him to be bold enough to take both what he wanted and what she was offering. She knew almost every relationship he had been in, the other had been the initiator. She was determined to let him be the one to start this. That way she would never doubt that he wanted it as much as she did.

No misguided act of nobility. No deception. No secrets.

Just her saying “Here it is, take it if you want it. But I'll understand if you don't.”

The bed shifted again. Abbie closed her eyes as she felt his warm, bare skin press against her back. His fingers tentatively traced a path over her shoulder and down her arm. She had thought, maybe he was wearing his thin, period costume, undergarments. But when she reached back to touch his hip, to let him know that he was okay, she felt nothing but skin.

She didn't pull her hand back. No, she rested her hand on his thigh and shifted her hips back against him. _This is what I'm offering. Do you want it? Yes? No? Maybe?_

It started with him placing a soft kiss against her temple. Then just below her ear. Then her jaw, her neck, shoulder, elbow... her fingers, each one individually. Then he started his way back up, retracing his path.

Abbie hummed softly and settled back against him as his arm draped over her waist, his hand flattened against her stomach and slid beneath her sheer camisole. She rested her hand atop his. His fingers twitched gently. Abbie wasn't sure if he felt compelled on his own or if she gave his hand a slight push to encourage it to glide down her stomach, past her navel.

Her hand came from atop his as his fingers slipped past the elastic band. She reached back and curled her fingers into his hair as he elicited a soft gasp from her lips. Her time alone in the catacombs had made her forget she was capable of feeling things like pleasure. The tiniest brush of his fingers through her soft curls set her nerve endings on full alert.

_What is this? What is this feeling? I remember this._ her body seemed to yelp. Her body then reminded her brain, _This is okay. This is allowed. You're allowed to feel this. You're allowed to feel pleasure. You're allowed to be loved. You're allowed to give love_.

Her brain responded by making her pull away from Ichabod enough to turn over to face him. His eyes were wide in the moonlight. He stammered for a moment. “I apol—”

Abbie pounced him, knocking him flat against the bed with the sheer force of her tiny body against his. Ichabod's hands, which had been up in surrender, hovered for a moment before settling onto her hips. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth then released it. “Don't think you're getting off easy for abandoning me just because of this.”

“We have both of our life times for me to make acceptable reparations for doing so,” Ichabod murmured in response. “So long as _you_ do not attempt to leave _me_ again.”

“Okay,” Abbie said quietly, nodding. “We both neglected to think beyond ourselves. How's that?”

“Agreed,” Ichabod replied softly.

Abbie teased his lips with the tip of her tongue. Her fingers grasped the silky strands of his hair and tugged. Ichabod nipped at her tongue, his hands stroking up and down her back before grasping her ass and gently squeezing.

Abbie gasped in shock and lifted her head. Ichabod looked horrified until she grinned like the Cheshire cat. “You're so shy with women I almost thought I'd have to tell you what to do,” she teased.

His eyes glimmered mischievously and he tilted his chin in that way he always did when he was preparing to be cheeky. “I shall have you know I am quite an ardent reader so I am well aware of the many ways to please a modern woman…”

Abbie snorted lightly and muttered, “Dork.” She then leaned back in and kissed Ichabod deeply. He gripped her ass again and pulled her up against him until one hand could slip between her thighs.

Ichabod’s fingers fluttered across the thin cotton stretched over the damp heat at the apex of her thighs. Abbie moaned softly against his lips and her hips grinded against his stomach.

After a few delicate strokes, his finger slipped into her panties. Abbie tore her lips from his and groaned. Ichabod seized the moment to pull her up enough to bury his face between her breasts then lave attention on both, in turn, with his mouth through the sheer material covering them.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Abbie gasped. She momentarily wondered what books he had been reading. However she soon became very distracted by the sensation of his fingers pushing inside of her and thrusting in time with every gentle nip and suck of his lips on her breasts.

All Abbie was capable of doing was pressing her palms against her headboard and make soft noises of encouragement as Ichabod seemed inclined to assault her senses.

He took his time, making his way to the tight tips of her breasts. She clenched around the two fingers he had inside of her when he sucked hard on one nipple. When he reached the next, Abbie came with a soft whimper.

Before Abbie could catch her breath--or wrap her head around the fact she had never come so easily before--she was on her back and Ichabod was dragging her panties down her legs and throwing them to the floor. His eyes roamed over her greedily and he licked his lips.

“So many nights I have lain awake…” he murmured. “And now that have you here, in the flesh… I cannot decide where I wish to begin.”

“We have all night,” Abbie replied softly. “Show me what Ichabod Crane can do to a lady…”

His eyes darkened as he leaned over her and brushed his lips over hers. “I fear a great many of things are not fit for _doing_ to a lady.” Abbie arched a curious brow. “Would it be proper for me to feast myself between my lady’s thighs as though her sweetness alone could satisfy my hunger?”

Abbie swallowed hard. “It is… very proper,” she squeaked, suddenly loving the direction this was going. “In fact, these days… as long as all parties are on board… you can do whatever strikes your fancy.”

Ichabod’s eyes widened as what she said sunk in. A wicked grin spread across his lips. Without any further preamble, Ichabod covered Abbie's face with kisses before licking, nipping, and sucking his way down her throat and chest. He shoved the sheer fabric out of the way so he could taste her skin.

His hands acted as a warning for where his mouth would roam--her stomach, her side's, hips. When he found a spot that made her gasp, he lingered and nibbled and sucked at the spot until Abbie whimpered, then moved on.

Her heart stumbled into her throat when his hands slid between her thighs and parted them. 

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Abbie whimpered when Ichabod delicately swiped his tongue between her folds. He locked his gaze with hers as he delved in with the low groan normally reserved for some new sweet treat.

She tried to look away but Abbie couldn't bring herself to do it. His hands gripped her hips as he did precisely as he has forewarned and feasted himself between her legs. Ichabod’s lips latched around her clit and his tongue swirled and rubbed it until she was trembling. Abbie squeezed her eyes shut and scraped her fingernails through his hair.

“Oh Abigail,” Ichabod groaned, somewhat muffled by his task.

Abbie's head doing back as she arched her hips against his face. Ichabod immediately pressed her hips back against the mattress, shifted his position to give her the same dedication she had been seeking. Each moan or groan he made sent her spiralling faster toward completion. 

His fingers slid up her sides and found one of the sensitive spots from earlier. He delicately stroked the spots and Abbie could see the smirk in his eyes as it all became too much and she howled his name as she came hard.

Still he didn't relent in his task. If anything he engaged with even more gusto than before. Abbie whimpered and tugged at Ichabod’s hair as her thighs began trembling. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and any objection she may have uttered to get him to permit her to catch her breath stayed lodged in her throat.

Ichabod gave a loud groan and tore his mouth away. Abbie felt her heart stammer when she drank in the wild look in his eyes. He clamored to position his hips between her legs, her eyes widened at the sight of him, fully aroused and erect. 

The moonlight revealed the dampness clinging to his beard and chest. Abbie felt her face warm at the knowledge that he had made her come _that_ hard.

Ichabod grasped his cock and positioned himself. Abbie gasped put her hand on his chest. “Wait…” she choked.

He sucked in sharp breaths to calm himself as he sat back on his heels. “Forgive my eagerness, Abigail…”

Abbie felt a swell of emotion then sat up to press her lips to his. “We're not stopping, Ichabod,” Abbie murmured. “I just wanted to grab a condom right quick.”

She rolled over to the nightstand and dug into the drawer to pull out the multipack box she kept there. Abbie let her eyes roam down Ichabod’s frame then, with a little smile, plucked the proper size from the box and slid the drawer closed.

A laugh trickled from her lips as Ichabod smirked. “What?”

“I was of the inclination that prophylactics were not reusable as they were in my day,” Ichabod commented. “Are you certain one will suffice?”

“I have three more,” Abbie intoned. “But let's see how this goes first.” Her eyes flickered downward and she moistened her lips. “I might be too sore once you're done with me.”

Hell she suspected just what he had done so far had worked enough of the right muscles that she'd probably be sore later. She made the mental note to get back to daily yoga routine if this ended up being a permanent thing.

Abbie rolled the condom on and let her breath go with a whoosh as she laid back, pulling Ichabod with her. She cried out softly as he pushed inside of her with one sure stroke.

Ichabod’s eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. “Good God,” he breathed raggedly. 

They remained still for a moment, his forehead resting against hers, staring into her eyes as they both fought the inevitable conclusion. Finally, Ichabod swallowed hard then kissed Abbie soundly, his fingers drifting over the apples of her cheeks and then her jaw.

Abbie sucked in a breath as he moved slowly at first. He felt damn good inside of her. Ichabod sighed her name reverently as his pace increased.

She drew her knees up his side's, groaned helplessly as she clasped her fingers behind his neck. He hit deep inside and Abbie knew that it wouldn't be long before she was coming again.

One of Ichabod’s hands moved to rest against the headboard. Abbie's eyes widened as he pushed onto his knees. His other hand rested on her waist, then drifted over her body as he drove into her deep and hard.

Abbie’s eyes rolled back and she grasped her pillow with both hands. 

“I have wanted you,” Ichabod groaned. “I have yearned… Oh my Abbie… my dearest Abbie… my precious treasure…”

If she had been coherent enough to know anything beyond the feeling of his cock gliding in and out of her with abandon, she probably would have been amused that she had _known_ he would be particularly chatty during sex. She may have even been surprised that, yes, colonial men knew a thing or two about sex.

But she wasn't and all she knew was that _this_ felt perfect and right. She guided his roaming fingers to her clit. 

While part of her felt like it was far too soon for this to be done and over, another part screamed for release. It was the latter part that was eternally grateful that Ichabod could take a hint. He stroked gentle circles over her clit in time with his thrusts.

“Abbie… My Abbie…”

Abbie gasped loudly and her hands grasped the wrist of the hand at her clit, squeezing tightly as his rhythm faltered and became erratic. “Oh God…” she choked out. “Oh God… Oh God… Ichabod…” Before she could gather the strength to pull his hand away, she was coming as she softly repeated Ichabod’s name over and over. He drove in deep and she could feel him following after has he cried out her name.

For a moment, Abbie swore she saw the heavens open up. Then she realized it was because Ichabod had collapsed atop her and she couldn’t breath. He muttered an apology and rolled so she was the one atop him. They both continued to try and catch their breaths for several minutes. Abbie gave a small grunt when she felt him withdraw from inside of her.

“Abigail,” Ichabod murmured, the first to finally regain the ability to speak. Abbie hummed in acknowledgement. “I feel you should be made aware, so there are no further misunderstandings or miscommunication… I love you, Grace Abbie Mills.”

Abbie sucked in a breath. Normally hearing those words or the even the thought of those words would have had her running for the hills. Though, part of her had always suspected it. She turned her head enough to kiss his chest then rested her cheek back down on his skin. “I know,” she whispered.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth as she heard ichabod draw in a deep breath. But then he sighed in a contented way that made her smile and she felt one of his hands stroke up and down her back. That was when Abbie knew _this_ was going to be not only a good thing but a permanent thing. Also…

“You were right,” Abbie said. “We’re going to need more than one.”


End file.
